


Into The Woods

by ActuallyAlliterative



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:07:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27070972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ActuallyAlliterative/pseuds/ActuallyAlliterative
Summary: Taking a position at the residential camp her brother loved, Sansa learns how to move through the grief of losing her brother and father, while forging new friendships with other staff members.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 12
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all,  
> This is my first foray into fanfiction so please be kind!  
> I've had this idea for Sansa starting as a camp instructor, but having to deal with growing into her maturity through a grieving process. It's a work in progress, so I may add or change this until I'm satisfied with it. I just thought I'd throw it up here.  
> I'm absolute crap at dialogue, so if/when I add to this I'll try to do better.  
> Also, anyone willing to be a beta reader?

The throbbing headache woke Sansa around the same time the sunlight started to stream into the cabin’s windows. Taking a deep breath and releasing it with a huff, she buried her face deeper into the pillows that surrounded her. It only took a moment for her to recognize that she wasn’t in her own bed with a sinking feeling. There was a deep pine and woodsy smell that lingered; pleasant, comforting and oddly familiar.  
She snuck her hand nearest her face outward, trying to find if there was another body that spent the night next to her. Knots in her stomach relaxed when she only found cool empty sheets. 

Another huff from her lips and she resigned herself to waking, if only to confront her actions the past night.

\-------

She could recall drinking with the staff, although she didn’t have much experience with alcohol. Letting loose during the weekend, blowing off steam from constantly watching and teaching children, most of the instructors and counselors gathered at the camp’s large fire-pit. It had taken some time for Sansa to relax into the communal chatter and socialization. She was a new hire, one of a few new members to join the residential camp’s staff, and after this chaotic introductory week she wanted to make a few friends. It had taken three drinks until she felt the dull heavy weight leave her shoulders.

Sansa was enjoying the gossip and antics of past summers from some of the older staff members when a whisper from Jeyne disrupted everything.

“Snow’s been staring at you, Sans.”

Jeyne was giggling a little, tipsy from her several refills of her solo cup. Sansa hazarded a glance across the dying fire only to find a pair of dark eyes studying her. Pulse jumping, Sansa allowed her deep red hair to swing to cover half of her face. 

Jon Snow was one of the male instructors the camp relied on to teach survival basics. He took the campers on a few day jaunt out into the wilderness, coaching them on how to build shelters, find edible foods and track animals. It was reserved for the most trusted instructors, since it involved being relatively cut-off from the grid. Most of the staff enjoyed their time in that program and many female counselors wanted to be assigned to it due to the handsome instructor. Gossip told Sansa how Snow was circumspect about the propriety of the staff while with the kids, and none of the girls could brag about bagging the instructor. 

Throughout this week, she had been happily busy with her own program, too distracted to notice the opposite sex. Well, mostly. It would be an outright lie to say she hadn’t noticed the broody instructor. It had been surprising to realize that their eyes met regularly across the mess hall during meal times, or when their programs joined for dual activities. His dark curls and striking features made it hard to ignore his presence. He looked older than most of the other staff members, serious and aloof. When their eyes collided, she could swear she felt her skin tingle with a sudden chill. It would take a supreme effort for her to sit still when his eyes pinned her down, and she struggled to explain the reason why. 

She turned to Jeyne and shushed her giggle.

“Seriously, stop. He’s not staring.” Sansa caught her friend roll her eyes dramatically before she began to stand. Her eyes slid quickly back over her shoulder to the intense gaze she felt on her back. Her skin burned, but with her proximity to the bonfire she blamed the flame instead of the man across it. 

“No, no don’t leave yet Sans,” Jeyne pleaded taking her spare hand, “Here, let’s have another drink. I’ll go get us some!” 

She pulled Sansa down to her seat again before leaping to her ungainly feet and quickly taking Sansa’s cup from her. Deciding to check her phone and ignore the heavy weight of his stare, she fumbled and squinted at the bright light of her screen. 

_8 missed calls from Mom_

Fuck. 

Her stomach plummeted and she felt like she was going to vomit when Jeyne returned with two filled cups. Her shoulders curved inward, gravity and grief pulling her further down to the earth.

“Here we are!” she crowed, handing one of the drinks to Sansa. 

“Jeyne, I have to go, really. I’ve got to call my mother. You know how she gets when she can’t get a hold-“

“Oh, come on Sansa! I just got us some drinks! Please, please just finish them with me and hang out. I’ve missed you!”

Putting the solo cup to her lips she quickly drank the contents and gave Jeyne a grimace.

“I’ve got to go Jeyne. We’ll hang out tomorrow. We don’t have anything planned until Sunday.”

That earned Sansa a terse goodbye and a pout, but she couldn’t stay and get drunk when her mom was probably out of her mind with worry. Walking away from the fire with a slight stumble, she noticed just how oppressive the heat had been and gratefully gulped down some cool night air. Sansa walked into the woods until she couldn’t hear the commotion of the get-together then she pulled out her phone to call Catelyn back. 

To say that it had been a difficult year would be understating the situation. Losing both Robb and Ned in a car accident had left the remaining Starks grief-stricken and lost. Sansa had to fight bitterly with her mother to take this job. It meant being away from her family, away from the pain and the memories. It helped that she wasn’t automatically known as Robb’s little sister or Ned’s poor daughter. Her grief was allowed to be pushed away, and although she felt their loss continually, the distance was slowly becoming her lifeline.

The desperation in her mother’s voice sent a punch to her gut, and Sansa wrapped her free arm around her ribs, as if to hold in her pain and guilt. These days she only had one conversation with her mother, and Sansa always had to stitch herself back together after they ended. The pleading, crying requests to come home and stay with the family.  
They were drowning her, burying her under the weight of the ghosts that haunted her. Nightmares of tires screeching and tear-stained pillows were all the nights had to offer her when she slept in her childhood bedroom.  
She refused to go back, it would end up costing her sanity if she did.

It was about 10 minutes into the call that Sansa started to feel cold and angry. The sweat that had only dampened the back of her neck raised goosebumps on her pale, freckled skin. Her fingers dug into her side, reminding her that lashing out would only cause her mother even more anguish. 

“No, Mom. I’m not coming home for the weekends - No, I’m not! Mom, it’s 3 hours one way. I don’t want to constantly be driving while I only have 2 days off.”

She could feel the rise of tears and hysteria bubbling beneath her surface and with the sound of footfalls coming her way, Sansa said goodbye to her mother quickly. It was probably for the best in all honesty. These drawn out, guilt-ridden and grief-driven conversations only made Sansa want to rake her nails down her face. 

Locking her phone and slipping it into her back pocket, she turned and stared into the darkness, looking for her unwelcome savior. Squinting, she tried to see who followed her off the normal walking path. 

A broad shouldered shadow stood some fifteen feet away; she could see that he had his hands stuffed into his jeans pockets.

“Hello?” she called questioningly.

“Hey, it’s Jon,” a deep timbre voice answered. 

Sansa’s stomach swooped uncomfortably and she wasn’t sure if it was from pleasure, apprehension or the alcohol she had with Jeyne.

“Oh, hey,” she replied weakly, “I had to get out of there and call back home.”

She walked towards Jon, careful with her steps to not get tangled in any of the sparse underbrush or tree-roots. She saw him shrug, one of his hands retrieved from his pocket to be offered to her. Blushing when she took his hand, she tucked a sheath of hair behind one ear. 

As he guided her out, Sansa could feel the roughened calluses his hands sported. She wondered what they’d feel like brushing across her lips and immediately found her feet stumbling over one another. Jon’s grip tightened in response and when Sansa righted herself she could feel her cheeks burning with embarrassment. 

“Sorry, I must have had more than I realized…” she tried to explain lamely. “Why did you follow me out here?”

A lift of his shoulders and a quick glance was the answer she got. When he had led them back to the lit path and let go of her hand, Sansa ducked her head, focusing her eyes on her shoes. Scuffed, pale pink converses she had adored until recently. Her friends from school used to joke that Sansa took her personality from Cher in Clueless. It seemed all too childish now, privileged. Her heart hurt at that moment, overwhelmingly so, that she had been so preoccupied with stupid, silly things instead of realizing how little time was gifted to her. 

“Are you alright?”

A warm hand on her shoulder had Sansa blinking the mist away from her vision. She plastered on a smile and nodded. 

“Yeah… Yeah I’m fine. I think I’m going to head back to my cabin, thanks for checking on me.”

Making a movement to leave, she was stopped as Jon’s arm slipped down her shoulder to lightly hold her forearm. His thumb gently rubbed along her skin, making her stomach tumble over again. 

“Let me walk you back,” Jon’s voice had gentled, almost breaking her, “I’ve nowhere to be, besides here.”

Nodding and giving him a shy smile, Sansa started on the path towards her shared cabin. The air was night-cooled, quiet except for the sound of crickets and the creaking of trees in the slight breeze. Fall would be coming shortly, summer was a short season this far in the North, even though the calendar was still firmly set in the middle of August.  
The camp felt different at night, empty of children and their activities. Moss hung from the boughs of ancient oak trees and she found herself admiring the stillness and peace surrounding her and Jon. Sneaking a glance at him she blushed when she found his dark eyes intensely focused on hers.

“How’re you finding camp, Sansa?”

It was a common enough question and she shrugged in response, trying her best to ignore the pleasure of hearing her name from his lips.

“Fine, I guess. It’s good to have a change of pace. I like teaching the kids, I come from big family.”

Wolf’s Wood wasn’t her idea originally. Robb had worked there for a few summers before starting university and he had bribed Sansa into working at the camp next. It was a good idea to pad her CV, especially with how selective schools were becoming towards incoming freshmen. 

But that had been before drunk drivers and skidding tires had changed her life. Trying to interrupt that line of thought she quickly went on.

“I’d like to be a teacher, so I figured this was a natural place to start. And my brother Robb…”

It felt so foolish to talk about him, she shouldn’t have opened her mouth. Sansa struggled to clear her throat before she became a blubbering mess when Jon filled the silence.

“I knew Robb,” he simply stated. He stopped walking and looked at her fully, unreserved now.

“I’m sorry you’ve lost him and your father.” His eyes flicked between hers quickly, as if gauging this topic, unsure of himself. 

“He was a wonderful friend, he helped me through… quite a lot.” He took a deep breath, glancing off into the darkened woods around them. He held the quiet for a few seconds before continuing,

“I’m glad you’re here, though. It’s nice finally putting a face to the name and stories. Robb talked frequently of you, you know?” Another shrug. “I feel like I know you already.”

Sansa couldn’t find her voice and her fingers played with the hem of her shirt. She nodded and forced her limbs to keep moving towards her cabin. When the weight on her chest seemed more bearable, she cleared her throat and began again.

“Robb didn’t talk much about his time here, but he did mention you.”

Blue eyes met grey and flitted away. 

“What did he say?”

“Just that you were a good guy, ‘a natural leader, to boot’, were his words.”

Jon laughed shortly and shook his head.

“He liked to see the best in people, didn’t he?” 

They let the conversation lay; an effortless silence between the two. Sansa was comforted by Jon’s presence, her mind going fuzzy from her indulgence and Jeyne’s insistence. Normally she’d feel nervous and anxious, but knowing that her brother had spoken well of this brooding and reserved man eased her trepidation. There was a not unpleasant heat in her stomach that radiated outward, and it flared up to her cheeks every time she caught Jon’s gaze. 

Nearing the cabin for the female staff brought along a sense of disappointment. It was simple to get lost in memories during the night. Her grief, like a stone, settled on her heart. Sansa walked backwards towards the doorway, giving a little wave to Jon.

“Thanks for walking me back, it was sweet of you.”

With one hand on the short handrail, she turned and bounded up the stairs.

“Sansa, wait!” Jon’s face looked quizzically at the window. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to, uh, go to bed just yet…”

Looking at the window with a slight frown, the only thing she noticed was a stuffed wolf plush sitting facing the glass…

“Ack!” She stuck her tongue out from between her teeth and hurriedly flew down the four steps. 

It was only common courtesy to let the cabin and its pre-occupied occupants go undisturbed. Sending out an exasperated huff, Sansa crossed her arms. She wasn’t sure how long she was going to be forced out of her ‘home away from home’ and she wasn’t going to sit on the steps, possibly overhearing whatever may be happening inside. Just when she decided to wait in the mess hall, Jon bumped her shoulder with his playfully.

“Hey, at least you didn’t walk into that,” his eyes were crinkling with humor and a ghost of a smile lingered.

“Ha, that would be… unfortunate. I should probably go wait in the mess hall, maybe scrounge up a few snacks if they haven’t already been decimated by the others.”

“Yeah, I don’t think there will be anything there. Food tends to disappear fast around here on the weekends. Why don’t you come back to mine? We’ll have another drink and then I’ll walk you back in a bit?”

\-------

A mess of her red hair spilled over her shoulder as she slid from between the sheets, tangled and unbound. Sansa normally braided her hair when she went to bed, so she must have not been thinking straight when she passed out. One shoulder was exposed in an oversized shirt that she didn’t own and her jeans were folded neatly beside the bed. Heart pounding alongside her head she tried to quickly jump into her pants, resulting in her stubbing her toe on the bed frame painfully. Muttering a curse she looked around, trying to recall what exactly happened last night.

A flurry of images came to her suddenly, making some sense of the evening.

A comfortable used couch with Jon sitting on one side. Laughing and drinking a little with him, the feeling of heat and longing as she touched his arm. She remembered flirting clumsily with him, the two of them sharing lame jokes and exchanging stories about Robb. It had been easy to sit and drink with Jon…

But then, time slowed when he stared at her with an inexplicable expression, the air about them thickening with an unspoken desire. A warm and saccharine sweetness as he loomed closer to her, his fingers brushing her hair from her face.

Sansa lifted her hands to her lips as she recalled a soft and slow kiss from Jon’s mouth. 

It turned hazy and meshed together after that and Sansa remembered slipping into sleep with a familiar disappointment. Her eyes roved over the bedspread, trying to see if there was a telltale rumpled look about it. She wasn’t sure she fell asleep alone. Her heart seized, worried about the consequences. She had refused to even have a boyfriend in school, she wasn’t keen on projects or jealousies. She wasn’t a prude but she was extremely selective. No one had really stood up to her demands, and now she was sleeping in Jon’s bed with no idea on what had transpired last night?

When she began to panic, she heard a soft knock on the door and saw Jon pop his head into the room. 

“I thought I heard you get up,” his eyes lingered on her lips before she winced at her headache. “You okay?”

“I think I’m hung over.” 

A grimace ran across his face and he rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. He was wearing glasses with his curls loose around his shoulders, which did absolutely nothing to distract her heart from hammering in her chest. Sansa was struck by how handsome he was and harshly tried to control her inner thoughts from running straight into the gutter.  
He held out his hand, like he had when he helped her out from the woods, and beckoned to her to follow him. Something low and deep inside her tightened as she took his hand again.

“Come on, let’s go grab some breakfast and some advil. I know how to jimmy the lock on the pantry.” He gave her a shy smile and led her from his room.

“How’d I end up sleeping here? “

Sansa cast her eyes about the messy shared common room for any of her belongings and took her hand back from Jon to sweep her hair aside. Rummaging around the place silently she located her shoes and slipped into her sneakers as he explained.

“You claimed you were too tired to make the walk back to your cabin,” Jon told her as he ushered her through the door and into the sunlight.  
They walked side-by-side in the morning hush, leaving behind the boy’s cabin. Quietly sung bird calls greeted them as Sansa gathered her courage to her.  
At a bend in the sidewalk that was sheltered by trees, she grabbed one of Jon’s hands to stop him. 

“Last night…” she started, unsure of how to broach the subject gracefully. “Did you take me to bed?” 

Her eyes automatically found her shoes, and she cursed her cheeks for the flaming blush that rose to them. She felt Jon’s fingers lifting her chin while the fingers on her free hand curled tightly into her palm.

He shook his head slowly, his eyes studying her intensely. Taking two steps into her space, Jon cupped the side of her face. His thumb rubbed her cheek gently, bringing her heart to a standstill. Sansa could hardly take a breath but still she was surrounded by the wood and pine scent that clung to him. He was so close she could clearly count the few freckles on he had on his cheeks. 

He leaned forward, angling his head, as he brushed his lips over hers sweetly before pressing a true kiss to her lips. His beard tickled her lightly; the sensation was a new but remembered one. 

As warm lips met hers, Sansa felt both rooted to the spot and like she was falling through the air. A tightness around her heart loosened, and she lifted her hand to his chest, willing this experience to last.

He kissed her slowly, savoring the moment. His hand found its way to the nape of her neck, while his lips pressed and teased her with care. It was tender and as his kiss warmed her, Sansa could feel something akin to electricity come to life under her skin. 

When the kiss ended, Jon took a slight step back hesitantly, eyes roaming over her face. He seemed to come back to her lips again and again. 

“I wanted to, but it hardly seemed the right time…” he whispered.

He exhaled, one hand soft on her waist, his other resuming its path along her cheek. His smile was wide and crinkled his eyes playfully.

“When I do, you’ll remember it.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends,
> 
> So it's been lovely being able to lose myself in this fic. It brings me back to when I worked at a camp myself (many many years ago)! 
> 
> I'm still learning how to flex this muscle of narrative writing, I haven't done this before. So if something seems off, let me know. My eyes are starting to go crazy from re-reading this chapter a bazillion times.
> 
> Thanks to all of you who've read and welcomed me here. It means the world to me. <3

After a quick lock-picking session and pilfering of the camp pantry, Sansa found herself seated with Jon in the tall, open structure of the lifeguard tower. They occupied opposite corners, their feet casually outstretched towards the center, with their ill-gotten breakfasts and one bottle of Advil littered between them. 

Sansa, content to relish the silence, enjoyed witnessing the progress of the water birds fishing for their meals and turtles breaking the surface of the lake. The water was clear, but murky at the edges, save for the well-maintained, white-sand swimming areas. The lake was a ten minute walk from the cabins and mess hall, surrounded by old growth woods that reminded her of home. It was a peaceful location to slowly sip her black tea and feel the Advil take the edge off of her hangover.

Jon's back was to the lake's surface, so Sansa was able to observe him as they relaxed into the quiet sounds of nature that echoed up to them. 

His appearance didn't hurt for the night of drinking they had shared, and she mused on how his glasses only seemed to make him more approachable. It wasn't fair, she thought, that he was so effortlessly _himself_. She wondered between small bites of the fruit she brought about how that security eluded her. 

There had been a deeply rooted security she felt once, but parts of that identity had been ripped to shreds over a year ago. Now all that she could do was try to placate the sharp ache that stole her breath, an almost daily occurrence. It was like the ripples on the lake, radiating outward, disturbing the peaceful calm she longed for. She was never fully smooth or tranquil. There was always that night breaking the surface, violently. 

Forcing her mind elsewhere, she took a breath and brought her eyes back to Jon, only to find him studying her already. His grey eyes were locked on hers over the rim of his coffee cup and he took his time setting it down. Sansa could feel her heart racing, and as she exhaled she could feel when Jon's eyes moved to her lips. A ghost of his kiss lingered still and to distract herself she shifted her hair to the other side of her head. Breaking the tension that was mounting between them, she tilted her head questioningly. 

"How long have you been working at the camp?"

He fixed her with a look, his gaze touching the shower of deep red hair that flowed over her shoulders. A flicker of a frown graced his face, but he came back to Sansa with a small smile. 

“About six or seven years? But I started spending summers here as a kid when I was twelve.”

"And you still enjoy coming here every summer?"

"I consider this place home, it's difficult _not_ to be here during summer." 

He brought his legs up and laid his arms across them casually, his hands dangling between his knees. He motioned with one hand to their surroundings.

"I'll have to move on eventually, soon, but it's been a large part of my life. A refuge." 

Jon smiled softly, adjusting his glasses and he nodded to her.

"I know I told you last night, but I am glad you signed on for the summer. I think Robb would have been pleased, too." 

The mention of Robb hurt, as it continually did, but Sansa lifted her shoulders in a shrug, trying to ward off the tears she felt constricting her throat. She looked out to the lake, finding it easier to cope if she wasn't laid bare by Jon's eyes.

"I promised him." 

It was all she could respond with for a long moment. Silence fell once more and she was mentally thankful that Jon didn't press her or apologize. 

"I wanted to come here, too. Robb loved this place so much, I thought I might fall in love with it also." 

She had thought that maybe she'd be able to feel him here, some part of him. A desperately clawing need to connect with her lost brother had grown, rooted into her, and that was how she found herself at Wolf's Wood. The distance and freedom had helped in some small measure to bring her back from reliving that night. 

"It's an easy place to love," he agreed, pulling her back to the present. 

Blinking away tears, she nodded and reached for her tea. His expression wasn't one of pity or unease, he just sat there holding the space and weight of her loss.

"And after the summer?" He questioned, an eyebrow raised, "You have school plans, you wanting to be a teacher and all?"

Grimacing, Sansa shook her head.

"Right. Well, I had decided to take a gap year after… and it may turn into two. Teaching is something I would love to do, but I need to actually take steps to get into school."

She raked her fingers through her hair, frustration emanating clearly from her.

"It's like living with the dead, back home," Sansa uttered bitterly, "like a gods forsaken crypt."

She copied his posture, but leaned her forehead on her knees to give her a moment's reprieve from this  
tête-à-tête. 

The week had been such a flurry of events, it had been a balm to be distracted with obligations. There had been little room for dwelling and Sansa had allowed herself the guilty privilege of pretending that nothing incredibly wrong was waiting for her back home. It made her feel almost normal, worrying about schedules and her little duckling group of campers. It was a sweet image she nursed; a line of small heads in a row, singing camp songs on the way to different activities. 

The program she headed wasn't a specialized one, it only called for gentle guidance of the youngest children, and teaching basic things such as arts and crafts and basic water safety. She was lucky to have snagged an instructor position, being her first year at Wolf's Wood, but her 19 years had edged out some of the more experienced but younger employees. What she taught could only barely be called a program in contrast to what Jon did during the week. 

Her mother had railed against her accepting the job and when arguing with Sansa hadn't worked, Catelyn turned to pleading. Then crying. At one point she had absolutely forbidden her from going, her face crumpling in pain when Sansa had refused to be manipulated. Sansa had wished to turn to stone, to harden into something that would never break or bend. It still broke her heart as she drove away, her mother's pawing fingers trying to clutch whatever bit of Sansa she could. Her sibling's expressions from the window as she waved goodbye. 

Arya had been mutinous, furious at another abandonment, while Bran and Rickon were mutely distant. Only her mother asked after her during this week, Sansa doubted she would hear from her siblings at all during the summer. It had compounded her guilt as she fled. She understood that leaving had been a trespass against her family, the broken individuals that fiercely loved her. Knowing this, she didn't think she'd survive going back home to stay. It was a problem that Sansa hesitated to confront, a dull dread she would have to contend with eventually.

"I don't love the idea of heading back home, honestly…" she said, muffled slightly due to her face still on her knees. 

She heard Jon shuffle closer and felt his weight rest close to her side. A warm hand rubbed her back, comforting her. She could feel his fingers thread through her hair at the nape of her neck, and a light blush suffused her cheeks at the contact. 

Turning her head to the side, she watched as Jon swept the hair from the side of her face and over her shoulder. He was looking at her with a tender expression, causing Sansa's heart to lurch and dance. 

"Don't borrow trouble from the future. You have time to decide which direction you'll go." 

His hand stilled on her lower back, his touch like a brand on her skin. Sansa could feel the weight of his gaze wind her muscles tight and she found that she wanted to run from and into such a feeling.

"'When I do, you'll remember it'," Sansa quoted, unexpectedly changing the topic.

She sat up and mourned the loss of Jon's touch when he removed his hand. Running a hand through his own curls, Jon gave her a crooked smile. 

"Or... if," he amended as he took one of her hands into his, sliding his fingers between hers.

"I don't play games, Sansa. I'd rather be honest about my desires and intentions." 

She could smell the pine and woods-like clean smell that lingered in his bed from this morning. She watched as Jon took a deep breath and continued on.

"I want to follow this path," he held up their connected hands briefly, "and see where it goes."

Jon pulled her hand to his chest as he leaned towards her, maneuvering them closer. The fingers of his free hand lifted her chin, and he placed a sweet kiss on her lips. The soft skin of his lips moved against hers and scattered her thoughts. She was a mess of nerves and barely contained flames. When she opened her mouth and felt the slick electric texture of his tongue she nearly burned alive. It could have been hours she spent in his embrace, her skin singing for more more more as his hands roamed carefully. 

When he broke from her, Sansa nearly followed his lips. His eyes were blown wide and she could feel his breath, as ragged as her own, on her face. A hand found a home on her cheek, one of his thumbs brushing her bottom lip repeatedly, Jon’s eyes trained on her mouth. When he finally met her stare, he moved his hand to hers, solidly connecting them.

“In normal circumstances, I’d ask for your number,” he said, voice deliciously rough and low.  
“I’d take you out, try and sweep you off your feet.” He gave her a devious grin and leaned forward to press a kiss to her exposed shoulder, it sent a shiver down her spine.

“It’s a little different here, while at Wolf’s Wood. There’s not much outside of this place besides trees and rocks.” 

“‘What are men to rocks and mountains?’” Sansa laughed as Jon shook his head in confusion.  
“You haven’t had the pleasure of meeting Jane Austen?” 

“Her reputation precedes her, but I haven't had read anything by her. I’m guessing you’ll probably remedy that.”

\-----

On Sunday afternoon the staff organized, cleaned and prepared to meet the week's new campers. They arranged the tables in the mess hall to check in and greet the families, people pouring in and crowding their counselors and instructors they knew from years past.

Sansa sat on a hard plastic chair with her clipboard on the table, her list of enrolled campers and their cabin assignments. She had thick twin french braids keeping her hair from her face, and a smile for each child that she was introduced to. The small talk about expectations and what activities they were going to do dominated her afternoon. She coaxed the shy into shaking her hand and laughing at her silly faces and jokes, and when they were at ease she sent them with their parents to settle their belongings at their cabin.

When she had a moment to herself, Sansa watched the other staff members and their interactions. Jeyne was happily flitting between groups of parents, guiding them with a deft hand to different stations. Theon, one of the male counselors, was jovially kidding with a following of pre-teen boys who quite obviously thought he was the epitome of cool.

Sitting next to Sansa was Margaery, an instructor who taught horseback riding, and the two ended up chatting in between rushes. It began with the usual queries about the weekend and how Sansa was faring, when the honeyed blonde snickered quietly. 

"He really has it bad, doesn't he?" Margaery almost whispered, shifting a sheath of wavy hair away as she pointed with her eyes to a corner of the room. 

Sansa frowned, following the other girl's gaze, catching a glimpse of Jon's grey eyes watching her briefly as he spoke with a collection of parents. She turned back to her table mate and rolled her eyes. 

"Why have I heard this multiple times this week? He's barely even spoken to me," she hoped her half truth would skate by unnoticed. 

She rested her face on her palm, elbow unceremoniously on the table, angling her body in Margaery's direction. Scoffing, the other instructor waved a hand between Jon and Sansa, her voice light and airy. 

"It's part and parcel of the camp experience, dear. People make calls on who they think will pair off, and Jon definitely has a type."

She made a vague gesture at Sansa, raising a well groomed brow. 

"In fact, I'll bet he'll make his move soon," she lowered her voice conspiratorially, "if he hasn't already…"

"He has a type?" 

"Oh, yes. There's something about you redheads that seems to draw him in. A few summers ago he was practically attached at the hip to this girl, Ygritte. She had red hair, freckles, but she was quite a bit more coarse than you." 

Margaery sniffed in displeasure, ordering her papers in front of her. But she turned her smile back at Sansa and raised one of the dual plaits in Sansa's hair.

"I much prefer your tint than hers, it was so brassy."

A shrug, and then they were interrupted by a handful of parents, towing their children behind then, for check in. 

"Gods above, is that Jessica?!" Margaery stepped around their table to embrace a preteen who cautiously was approaching them. Sansa turned her attention back to her duties, chewing on the idea of Jon's dating preferences. 

Half an hour passed, and with the ensuing lull, Sansa grabbed Margaery's attention by tapping on her sign in sheet.

"Dance card full, Marg?"

A devilish grin turned up the corners of Margaery's mouth. She nodded and Sansa grabbed her hand, forcing the girl to stand up.

"Brilliant, me too. Let's grab a cup of tea."

The pair of them linked arms, walking toward the kitchen, happy to have a moment's peace. Inside the almost industrial cooking space, Sansa grabbed two mugs while Marg located a box with a variety of teas. 

"Green, black, herbal…?" She called out as Sansa hunted for the kettle. 

"Is there any of that lemon hibiscus from the other day?"

"Hmm, yes, a few." 

As they waited for the water to boil, Margaery looked like a cat who ate the canary. 

"So, what has he said to you? Obviously we're here to gossip…"

Sansa leaned against a counter, her lips pursed, trying to keep her face blank. It was strange, this girltalk, after so many months of stilted, tight-rope conversations. She found herself losing her neutral expression to a relaxed smile. There was nothing wrong with a little camaraderie, right?

"We've talked about Robb, really. And he made sure I didn't get lost when I called home Friday. I had kind of stumbled a bit into the woods. I'm not much of a hellraiser. " 

Sansa mock sighed and shook her head.

"I'm never letting Jeyne make me a drink again. She'll see me under the table for sure."

Margaery took the kettle just as it began to scream and gracefully filled both their cups. As their teas steeped, Sansa changed tack.

“What about you? Anyone catch your eye?”

“Oh, who hasn’t?” Marg winked and shimmied her shoulders in a flirtatious dance. “I’d say you have, but I determined you weren’t swayable early on.” 

Sansa choked into her tea, eyebrows near her hairline.

“What?”

“Oh, don’t be so uptight, love. I’m not so rigid in my tastes. Besides, I think Jon would probably kill me if I tried anything.”

A smug grin was firmly on her face and Sansa fixed her with a stern look in retaliation. 

“I’m no one’s property.”

“Oh, little bird, it’s the game here, I told you. Sooner or later the boys will descend, so you better be prepared. Theon is particularly tenacious, it’s best to be upfront with that one.”

Margaery tapped her temple with one finger and grabbed her tea.

“Come on, Sans. We shouldn’t be gone too long. People will get ideas…” 

She winked at Sansa before giving a big laugh and linked their arms together one more, steering them both back to the welcoming mess hall.

\-----

After the din of new campers quieted and cabin doors closed and locked for the night, Sansa reflected on the ease of which she fit into the staff. She didn’t know everyone intimately, but there were several weeks left in the season for her to fix that. The welcome she received had heartened her, making her recognize that she did not have to be defined by the tragedies that she knew. At home, she felt in over her head, unable to gasp a full breath. At meals she was greeted by name and smiled at, she wasn’t a reminder of someone else. She was able to joke and play without feeling like she was betraying the sanctity of a mausoleum.

Her homesickness did not fade as she thought it ought to, instead it was an added layer to her day. She thought Bran would love the archery range and the small mountain climbs they had here. Arya naturally would have gravitated towards the rugged camping, it seemed like Jon and Arya had a similar spark within them in that regard. Rickon, baby of the family, would run amok and be allowed to, for the most part. Sansa was pained that his never-ending curiosity was curbed by loss. Listlessness didn’t suit her youngest brother, and he became clingy since Robb and Ned had died. 

Making the most of the free time she had at night, Sansa walked a short circuit of the well-trodden paths, stopping at the low wooden fence that cordoned off the archery range. She sat and looked up at the darkened sky, calming when the stars were uncovered by a moving cloud. There was a small breeze present, since the range had been cleared of most trees to accommodate the sport, and it softly brushed the ends of her braids. 

The idea of who she wanted to become was forefront in her mind. The tempting notion that she could turn a new leaf, wipe clean her slate... Did breaking free mean forgetting, and would that mean the pain would lessen? Is that a trade Sansa could stomach? As the years of her life passed how could she mark milestones without her brother and father? Being a Stark meant being part of a pack, and how would you identify yourself if a large part of that pack left or died? Did that mean she'd be broken forevermore? 

The questions made her head spin and ache but she wasn't any the wiser after her surroundings stilled. 

“Stark…” came a voice from several feet away, startling Sansa into standing. The voice was harsh but oddly melodic, and she glared in the direction where it originated from. 

“Oy, over here.” A movement revealed Asha sitting underneath a far off tree, partially hidden by the trunk. The burning end of a cigarette was red and smokey, and Sansa could just make out the dark haired girl exhaling a cloud. Giving her a wave, Sansa resumed her place, and watched as Asha came around the tree to face her.

“Didn’t think I’d be bothered out here, you didn’t want to go to the staff lounge?”

Shaking her head, Sansa replied. “I didn’t quite feel like socializing with a rowdy bunch.”

“Aw, they don’t get too shitfaced when the kids are here. Most of us watch out for that.”

She stubbed out the dying cigarette and pocketed the butt. She stood and brushed off the back of her pants, making her way to sit next to Sansa. 

“I’m sure you’ve heard this too much at this point,” Asha started, looking away from Sansa into the woods, “but I wanted to say I’m sorry about your dad and Robb. It’s a fucked up thing that happened.”

Inhaling against the expected hurt, Sansa nodded, going mute for the space of a minute. She understood that several of the staff members knew or remembered Robb, but she hated being caught unaware. Maybe it had been a mistake to come here, if all she could be was Robb’s little sister.  
Asha bumped her shoulder then, looking right at her, not allowing her to float away in her thoughts. She held out the pack of cigarettes, offering one to her, but Sansa shook her head.

“Yeah, I know.” Asha said as she replaced the pack sans one. She lit up and leaned away to blow the first drag.

“I won’t mention it again, but I thought I’d say it once. Sorry.” 

Asha shrugged and got up, standing directly in front of Sansa, the cigarette hanging from one corner of her mouth.

"Come on," she ordered, waving at Sansa to make her stand again. "Let's go make sure Theon isn't making a complete drunken ass out of himself. It'll help to have a pretty face not related to him to convince him to sleep it off."

"You're related?"

"Unfortunately. Let's go…" 

Following Asha, Sansa was struck with the idea that the girl ahead of her was playing the role of big sister. That abandoning her isolation and bringing Sansa with her, she was making sure that Sansa wasn't forgotten or neglected. It forcefully reminded her of all the times Robb coaxed smiles out of the younger siblings, or snuck Sansa an extra lemon tart slice as a midnight snack. 

The revelation stung something wicked, but her heart warmed as she picked up her step to walk side by side with Asha. Her smile at the older instructor was tentative, but Sansa could swear she felt an old piece of herself slide back home.


End file.
